smooth sailing
by sharingank
Summary: She questions herself, she really questions herself and her life choices.


Suigetsu finds her in the evening, long after she'd jumped down his throat about how badly he'd botched things with Sarada - and, by extension, Sasuke and Sakura. She could've kicked his stupid pointed teeth in, she was so pissed, but she isn't quite as prone to violent fits of temper as she used to be.

Especially where Suigetsu is concerned.

Sure, they still fight, they still fling barbs at one another like bullets in rapid succession, they still push each other's buttons. Except, well, who knows, maybe fucking somebody on and off for years does strange things to your head after a while. She tries not to think too hard about it for the sake of her own sanity, even if the rational part of her realizes she gonna have to unpack this suitcase instead of shoving it in a corner and pretending it doesn't exist.

Sooner rather than later, if Suigetsu has anything to say on the matter. And he does, apparently. Not only are her romantic entanglements none of his goddamn business, whether or not she's over Sasuke is at the very _bottom_ of the list of 'need to know' information she'd willingly dispense with, but Suigetsu never cared about boundaries.

(Let's face it, for a long time, she didn't, either.)

In any case, she'd spent far too long bent over her desk working on notes and crossreferences today because his smug demeanor irked her beyond comprehension, so she's more than ready to throw down when he trespasses on her space yet again, sidles up close to the point where he's nearly draped over her back, one hand flat on the desk's smooth surface.

"I _told_ you to keep your filthy paws off my desk, you dick- "

"You also told me your desk was an extension of you," he breathes in her ear, "and it ain't like I haven't touched every single part once or twice." To punctuate, he nips at her earlobe with those ridiculous teeth, and she shudders despite herself.

The things he's done to her with those teeth-

Somehow, she loses track of when her chair hit the ground with a resounding clatter, when she yanked his face to her level by the hair and attacked him with her mouth, when he wrestled her shorts and panties off and she got his pants open enough to free him, when he pushed her back against the nearest wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist. As soon as he enters her, though, everything comes into sharp focus.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," she hisses, both of her hands tangled in his hair now.

He rolls his hips almost lazily, smirks at her in a way that used to make her want to slap him, years ago. "Talk to me about my dick some more, sweetheart," he drawls, his voice a low, raspy hum.

The whimper escapes her before she can stop it, and all at once, it's like she's lost the entire war. She bites down on the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood, gives his hair a savage tug. "You're an asshole."

But he doesn't take the bait. "You're wetter than a tidal wave." His expression is reminiscent of a hungry shark who just made a terrible analogy on purpose.

She questions herself, she _really_ questions herself and her life choices. The worst part is, though, he's not wrong. She's so turned on by his bullshit she can't even stand to occupy her own head. "Suigetsu, I swear to god, any god- " The rest of the sentence is cut off by a loud, sharp keen when he draws out and slides in again, to the hilt, and grinds against her. She's clutching his hair so tightly it has to feel uncomfortable, but he appears unruffled.

Relatively. She's pleased to note his half-lidded eyes, his flushed cheeks, the hitch in his breath, the way his hands on her hips tremble. This is how she likes him most, when she can tell he's just as thrown by her as she is by him. After all, her bad decisions are his, too. While he watches her, she runs her tongue over her top lip, and he shows her his teeth.

"Hark, your lord and savior answers the call. Worship me."

She blinks. Then she punches his shoulder, and he allows her fist to connect, which earns him _no points_ , she's not that generous. "How did I ever get involved with you. How. Was I drunk? The sex is _not_ worth the headache." She sounds quite convincing, what with the way she rubs herself against him, desperate for friction, for the feel of him inside her.

And he isn't fooled, not even the least bit fooled. He brings his face so close their noses brush; they breathe each other's air. "Involved? Are we involved?" Making sure she's braced, he slips one of his hands between them, moves his slick fingers in a circular pattern near the place where they're joined as he continues his slow, torturous thrusts. "Is that what this is, Karin?"

Her mouth drops open and she all but howls, no longer certain which way is up. "Please - please, _Suigetsu_ -" Her voice is high and girlish and wrecked and she releases her hold on his hair, clings to whatever part of him she can reach, digs her heels into the small of his back.

"Yeah, say my name." Suigetsu's eyes are locked on hers, his grin positively wicked. "Maybe you carried a torch for Sasuke, maybe you still do, but you've only ever screamed my name when you come."

Damn this man. Damn him for the impossible, infuriating prick he is. "I _hate_ you."

"You want me."

"So what if I do?" she snarls, her patience at an abrupt end. "Fine, we are involved. We are a thing. And I want you. All right?"

"An exclusive thing."

"An exclusive thing," she agrees through gritted teeth.

"There's my girl," Suigetsu says, and kisses her, a kiss so intense she doesn't mind the lost opportunity to protest.

She minds even less when his thrusts gain momentum, when he pounds into her so hard the filing cabinets beside them rattle. They are both louder than strictly necessary, panting and moaning and cursing - nobody at the hideout could mistake the sort of activity they're engaged in, and she knows he cares about as much as she does, which is very little.

Her climax hits fast and sudden, urged on by the pace and his relentless fingers. True to form (damn him), she screams his name as she comes. He follows her, his forehead pressed against her shoulder blade, and she holds him there while they draw in deep, shuddering breaths. After a time, he lifts his face to look at her, flashes a contented smile.

She kisses him because the onslaught of affection that buffets her is so unexpected her brain can't - or won't - compute.

Once the kiss reaches a natural conclusion, he says, "The sex isn't worth the headache, huh."

"Pending," she sniffs, her lips swollen from his attention. "Now shoo, I'm in dire need of a nice, long bath." Wait. She should've kept her mouth shut. Why didn't she keep her mouth shut. "Suigetsu, that wasn't an invitation. Suigetsu? Suigetsu, _goddamn it_ \- "

"Exclusive!" He cackles, already absconding with her toward the door.

This is, she supposes, a small taste of what her heat-of-the-moment acceptance bought her.

She doesn't feel as conflicted about it as she should.

* * *

I CAN'T BE CONTAINED.

(my descent back into Naruto hell is complete)

(also real talk you know they've been banging this whole time)

(i'm just saying)


End file.
